


Shared

by Pom_Rania



Series: Little By Little [15]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking & Talking, Gen, Kanan and Rex are drinking buddies, Sato is autistic fight me, Zeb's secret waffle stash, indirect references to Order 66, mentions of past drunkenness, painful irony via mentions of General Skywalker, rated T for drinking, visually-impaired Ezra Bridger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pom_Rania/pseuds/Pom_Rania
Summary: Kanan and Rex talk over drinks. There was never any chance of it just being an ordinary get-together, not with the bad news.





	

Zeb referred to Kanan and Rex’s regular get-togethers as their “wine-and-whine”, and thought the name incredibly witty. He was wrong on three counts. First, although it did involve alcohol, the drink in question was almost never specifically wine. Second, they weren’t “whining”, they were going over shared or similar experiences, and venting about things no one else would necessarily understand. Third, the name wasn’t that clever.

But Zeb wasn’t the matter at hand. That was someone else.

Rex wasn’t currently on the base, but he was on his way. Before he arrived, Kanan located a room for them, and then sent a message of where it was this time. It was never a given that any particular location would be free, but that room was empty and, more importantly, reasonably soundproofed. He didn’t want anyone to be able to overhear what he had to say.

While he was waiting, he cleared the floor of anything he might trip on. There was an entirely new hazard in getting drunk when one used the Force to sense where everything was; Kanan wasn’t _planning_ on getting drunk, but just in case. He didn’t find much he needed to move, just some spare cords; he shoved them in the corner, where they joined an empty bin and a chair which really should have been taken to the trash compactor.

He knew he wouldn’t have long to wait. Rex was good about being on time.

Kanan didn’t take his mask off, even though he was comfortable with the other man. (Sometimes it was hard to believe they had ever been at odds.) It had eventually come out that although Rex didn’t have a problem with seeing Kanan’s facial scarring and scarred eyes – they were battle wounds, nothing to be ashamed of – he simply liked the look of Kanan’s mask, so normally Kanan kept it on when they were together. That was good. It meant that it wouldn’t invite questions when he hid behind it.

He felt Rex approaching, and turned towards the door as it opened.

“Nice place you picked here,” Rex said dryly, and pulled out a chair. “I especially love the view.”

They both knew that there _was_ no view; the small room was windowless, and any windows would only have revealed the opposite wall.

Kanan gave an easy shrug. “Hey, you take what you can get,” he said. “What do you have for us today?”

“I brought something special this time,” Rex said, and set a metallic object down on the table; probably a flask, judging by the fact that liquid sloshed slightly at the movement, and there wasn’t much else it was likely to be. “Behold, the fruits of our labours,” he announced, and removed the stopper.

Kanan sniffed, and was greeted with the familiar scent of something alcoholic. “I don’t recall either of us raiding this type of supplies, or making it ourselves.”

“Not directly, but we’re still responsible for it.” Rex got out the cups, and began pouring. “You remember the still on base – of course you do, you’d said you would never be able to forget something that tasted so bad – and I helped build it, so that’s my contribution. I recently discovered that one of the people you recruited,” he passed a filled cup over to Kanan, “had been a brewer before the Empire shut down all ‘non-essential’ services where he used to work, and that the people running the still got into contact with him. As for the result, try it for yourself.”

Kanan took a hesitant sip, remembering the last time he’d had something from that particular source. It had been... well, it hadn’t been the worst-tasting alcohol he’d ever had, as there had been some pretty horrible drinks he’d consumed, but it certainly had not been desirable in any sense other than “can get you drunk”.

“This is from their first 'new and improved’ batch. What do you think?” He imagined Rex was looking expectantly at him. 

He swished it around in his mouth, and considered. There was the familiar burn as he swallowed, but he didn’t feel the urge to cough as it went down. “It’s a definite improvement,” he said. “I’ve come across worse served to non-desperate people. I don’t feel like this is going to corrode my throat, and I’ll probably still have a sense of taste afterwards. Give my compliments to the brewer, as I wasn’t sure it was even possible to make something this drinkable from that... contraption they have rigged up. Still not the greatest though.”

Rex shrugged. “Only so much you can do with limited supplies, no matter how skilled you are. All we can do is try our best, and deal with what comes out the other end. Besides, we’ve both willingly had worse.”

Couldn’t argue with that.

“What’s been happening on your end? Anything new?”

Behind his mask, Kanan squeezed his eyelids. No more putting it off, and simply having a normal get-together. If he didn’t respond to that, he would officially be stalling.

He took a swig. “Do you remember when I asked you if you’d noticed anything odd about Ezra?”

Rex grunted an affirmative, and swallowed. “Heh, and I’d said that asking a clone about if something was normal for teenagers was... well, that was really not the best choice of people to ask,” he said once his mouth was empty.

A year ago, in that type of situation, Kanan would have stared into his cup, but that wasn’t an option any more. Instead he swirled it around, feeling the slight pressure changes against his hand as the liquid moved. “...I found out what was wrong,” he said. “What _is_ wrong.”

“Oh?” Rex’s voice was only curious, as was his presence in the Force. He had no idea.

Kanan wished he could go back to that time, when he had thought nothing was wrong, and Ezra was perfectly healthy if a bit odd. It seemed so long ago, so much had changed since then, but it had only been a few weeks.

No. Even if he could have remained in blissful ignorance, Ezra would have had to deal with it all by himself for longer, and that was not an option. Kanan would have traded away all that false complacency in a heartbeat, just to have been able to help him from the start.

“So, are you going to tell me, or is this one of those Jedi secrets?”

Kanan took a deep breath. “He’s going blind,” he said, and drained his glass.

Rex said nothing, just automatically reached over to refill the cup. Just as automatically, Kanan took a drink from it. He knew that there would be no visible reaction. Maybe, after all the time they had spent together, he would have learned the slight twitches that gave away any emotional response, but only if he’d been able to see.

Slowly, carefully, Rex set down his own cup. “...what did you say.”

“You heard me. He’s losing his sight.”

Rex got it then. There was no denial, no asking if they were sure. Good; Kanan wasn’t sure he’d be able to say it a third time.

“How –”

“No.” Kanan sighed, and vaguely gestured something he hoped would be understood as an apology. “I don’t want to go through this again. I could explain but... I really don’t want to. All the information you should need to know is on... where is it... on here.”

Rex took the datapad and slid it into his bag. He probably didn’t even glance at it. “Okay.” He knocked back the rest of his drink, then, from his posture, probably stared into the empty cup. “Does Hera know?”

Kanan took another sip; he didn’t need to down it all at once, and it was probably going to be the best stuff he’d get for a while. “She does,” he confirmed. “She was the first person to be specifically told. I found out accidentally, and the medical droid... confirmed it with tests. Sabine and Zeb learned about it yesterday, when they came back. Hera said she was going to tell Sato today, so for all I know you’re hearing about this before him.”

“News travels fast, especially in the army. Now, this may not resemble the armies we both grew up with –”

Kanan had to snort at that. It most certainly did not.

“– but it’s close enough in that respect. Are you, and more importantly Ezra, prepared to deal with people you hadn’t told, knowing and asking about it?”

“We haven’t really talked about it,” he admitted. “It was hard enough getting him to realize that he needed to tell the others before it was unavoidable... do you know he hid it for almost a year? And then I found out, and Enno-fifteen found out, and it must seem to be happening so fast to him.”

Rex refilled his cup, and drank. “Life doesn’t wait for any of us, unfortunately. I remember... but you would know too. Everything changed that day, and it didn’t stop at just that.”

Neither of them wanted to think too much about that, the utter betrayal of everything they had stood for and believed in. They hadn’t just lost friends – family – but the very Republic they had been fighting for, and any sense of security.

“How much of that stuff do you have left?” Kanan asked, changing the subject.

Rex shook the flask. From the sound of it, it was a little under half full. “Enough for a few more drinks,” he said. “I was planning on saving some for later, but we might need it now.”

“I probably shouldn’t have much more,” Kanan said. “Remember when,” he couldn’t even smile at the memory, “the time we raided a supply ship loaded with a generous supply of the good stuff, smuggled out a few bottles, and then you had to guide me back to the Ghost because I kept running into things? Drinking too much is a _bad_ idea for me, if I want to be able to get around later.”

 A snort of laughter. “I remember you saying you had a lot of experience with getting drunk, and there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It was true,” Kanan protested. “After... _then_ , and before I met Hera, I spent most of my time in bars. I just didn’t use the Force to sense things back then, I had no way of knowing it would interfere....” He couldn’t stay distracted for long. “I’ll have to warn him about that. Once he learns how to... but it’s difficult.”

Rex leaned forward and patted his arm. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to assist with the Jedi stuff, but what can I do to help?”

“I don’t know,” Kanan said, and it came out as more of a groan than he’d intended. “There’s nothing that can stop it or slow it down, cybernetics wouldn’t work, I can barely figure out _myself_ how I sense things let alone be able to teach it, Sabine rushed off this morning on some mission she wouldn’t tell anyone about, Zeb said he was going to see if the spiders were good eating if you cooked them right and I really hope that somebody talked him out of it, Hera’s barely been able to stop moving since she found out and I’m worried she’ll break down if she doesn’t have a proper rest, the atmosphere on the ship is so thick I’m surprised I haven’t started coughing on it, Ezra hates the med droid, Chopper’s been incredibly nice lately and it’s really creepy, I have to pretend that I don’t know about Zeb’s waffle stash....” He stopped. “Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to worry about.”

Kanan would have looked away. “It’s good just being able to talk with you,” he quietly said.

“I understand that,” Rex said. “Without my brothers... without Gregor and Wolffe, the years would have been even worse to me. Even if nobody wants an old soldier in the fight, I still have my experience and my mind, and I’m able to use them.”

“I can’t say that I wish I’d met you earlier,” Kanan said, “as I never would have stuck around long enough to get more than a vague glimpse without Ahsoka’s requests, or gotten to know you without being forced to work together, but... it worked out.”

“Here’s to more things working out in the future.”

“It would be a nice change.”

They clinked glasses.

Rex shook his head. “Still, that’s some coincidence. First you, then Ezra....”

“Technically, Ezra would be earlier,” Kanan said. “He was already having some problems, _before_ ,” and he gestured at his mask. “Maybe....” He sighed. “Maybe that was why. On bad days, I’d thought that maybe it was all my fault, that the Force was punishing me for rejecting it for so long, and that’s why it didn’t warn me enough, didn’t let me block quickly enough to save at least some of my sight. But maybe it was so I could learn how to function without being able to see, and help Ezra with what he’s going through, and will go through.”

Rex gave a gentle snort. “That’s a Jedi for you, always thinking of others. If I get a clear shot on Maul, I’m still going to take it,” he added.

Kanan smiled, and there was almost feeling in it. “I’d only stop you if there was some reason we needed him alive.”

There was silence for a moment, as they both worked on their drinks. It really wasn’t so bad after all, Kanan thought; or maybe he’d just forgotten what decent alcohol tasted like.

If he hadn’t had any bad news to share, what would be happening at the moment? They would talk... he would have asked about Rex.

He grabbed onto that, for a semblance of normality. “What about you, anything interesting happening?”

Rex shrugged. “Just the normal. Another mission coming up for me in four days, in an advisory role for some recent recruits; can’t tell you what or where, but I don’t think you’ll be familiar with it.”

That was only fair. Secrecy was always an issue, and even if neither of them would leak sensitive info, it was just good practice to keep names and places on a need-to-know basis as a general rule.

“It’s only predicted to take a day or two, but we all know how much that’s worth.”

They did indeed. Kanan had heard that a group of analysts were, in their spare time, working to calculate the amount of discrepancy between projected and actual mission durations. It seemed like a waste of time to him, but if it kept them happy, he wasn’t going to argue.

"I’m staying here with Ezra,” he offered, “unless I’m specifically needed.”

“Do you expect that you will be?”

“I really hope that nothing comes up,” Kanan found himself saying. “I might not be able to do much to help him, but... at least I’m there if he needs me, and I’ll know if anything happens.”

Rex idly tapped his fingers on his glass. “Just remember, even Skywalker couldn’t solve all of his student’s problems.”

“And I don’t have a hope of measuring up to him?” Kanan smiled slightly, to show he didn’t take it harshly; a few months ago, he would have.

“I didn’t say that....”

He raised a finger. “But you thought it.”

“Well, if we’re comparing you to the greatest Jedi in known history... but he’s not here. He never had to deal with some of the things you do, and he had the authority of the whole Republic behind him. Even if the Seppies didn’t recognize that authority, that was a lot of resources and security he had that you don’t.”

Rex stopped, and suddenly snorted. “I just pictured Skywalker and Ezra in the same room, talking to each other... it could only end in disaster and property damage and something completely unexpected happening. It’s good that you’re no Skywalker. The galaxy could only handle one of him, and even that was difficult.”

“I remember....” Kanan reached for his cup again. “There was a game we played, as younglings. Someone would share three stories about him; two were true, and one was made up on the spot, and we’d have to guess. The only real strategies for that were to figure out how the person acted when they were making stuff up, or to keep on top of everything about him so you’d be familiar with what was actually reported that he did. Otherwise, there was no way of telling.”

Rex chuckled. “Would you believe it, some of the younger clones did the exact same thing.”

“How did it go for them?”

“Eventually they moved on to the exploits of other generals, as Skywalker kept proving even their most outlandish fictions true. That, and his stories spread so quickly, soon enough everybody knew what had happened and there was no point in trying to guess.”

Yet another reminder of Ezra’s situation, and the problems surrounding that. Kanan sighed; there really was no escaping it. “Speaking of 'stories spreading’... how long do you think we have?”

“For what?”

“Until it’s common knowledge.

Rex made a thoughtful noise. "It really depends on who’s there to overhear anything, and I suppose also on how Commander Sato chooses to react. He can be... I wouldn’t say 'inconsiderate’, but he doesn’t always realize how people will feel about his actions and decisions. It may simply not occur to him that this is something he should keep quiet.”

"I guess you’ve worked with him closer than I have. How bad is it going to be?”

“Just remember, he means no harm by any of it. Whatever he does.”

Kanan crossed his arms. “That... does not sound comforting.”

“The thing about Sato is, and don’t get me wrong, he’s great at what he does, it’s just....” Rex scratched his beard. “He thinks in terms of what’s best for the mission, not for the soldiers. That’s good in a commander, it’s what you need. But if you’re the soldier in question, it can feel a little different.”

Kanan frowned. “That sounds pretty normal to me. Hera gets like that too, when she leads her squadron.”

“The difference is that he doesn’t even realize that some of what he does is hurtful. He won’t apologize for it afterwards; not because he’s cruel or too proud, but because he doesn’t even think of how it might hurt someone.”

Kanan had known there was something different with Sato. The commander didn’t always seem to understand things that should be intuitive, such as how to respond to certain social cues; but it had never affected anything before, and Kanan hadn’t made the connection, that it might actually cause problems for Ezra. No. Sato wasn’t the problem. No _person_ was the problem. Even the Emperor couldn’t be blamed for this one. It was just... people doing what they thought best, sometimes what actually was best, and the consequences that came from it.

“...It sounds like I need to talk with Ezra as soon as possible,” he sighed.

“Let’s hope there isn’t going to be a problem.”

He snorted. “Hope? That and two credits will buy you a donut. Anyways, how long are you going to be here for?”

Rex finished off the last of his drink. “Not too long,” he said; “even if it’s in a few days, I still have prep work and rookie wrangling to do, and who knows how long that’s going to take. But while I’m still on the base, I was supposed to report on how this stuff went down, literally. Any final words on the matter? How was the smell?”

“As I said, it was – wait, the smell? Wouldn’t how it tastes be more important?”

There was the distinct impression of Rex raising an eyebrow. “Word has gotten around that you have a particularly sensitive nose,” he said. “Your opinion on that matter would be especially valid.”

Kanan was confused for a second, then buried his face in his hands. “I know exactly where this came from,” he mumbled. “It was just an excuse! Spur of the moment! I needed to think of _something_ to tell Hera without saying more than I was supposed to, and I don’t even remember if Riechend was the planet they were talking about in the first place with the sulfur, it was years ago and I was drunk at the time.”

“Okay, whatever that was about... but do you have anything else to say about the drink?”

“Tell them....” He gave a humourless smile. “Tell them it’s the best thing to happen to me in the past few weeks.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“No.” He considered it some more. “On second thought, don’t say that at all. Actually, ask the brewer what supplies he’d need to improve it, and I can keep an eye out for that stuff.”

“Will do.” Rex gathered the flask and empty cups.  "I guess this is it for today then.“

"Yeah, pretty much... sorry for dumping this all on you.”

“That’s what we’re here for, listening to each other’s problems and drinking lousy booze. Or whatever it happens to be.” He stood up. “Take care of yourself.”

“I have been. Somebody needs to set a good example.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing that Hera’s with you guys.”

The corners of Kanan’s mouth twitched involuntarily. “You got me on that one.”

Kanan stood up as well, and they both made their way to the door. They clasped arms.

“See you next time,” Rex said.

“Yeah, you too,” Kanan replied, as Rex turned and went his own way.

That was one of the great things about Rex, he thought; the clone wasn’t afraid to use normal expressions referring to vision around him. It was just words, after all... words that, too often, came with awkward reactions.

Kanan frowned. He remembered, early on, when that would bother him, but it had bothered him just as much (if not worse) when people were very obviously trying to not say “eyes” or “see” or anything of the like. At times he had taken great pleasure in using those phrases as deliberately as possible, just to make the other person feel uncomfortable; it was petty, he knew, and had known, but he hadn’t cared.

Had he – had he ever done that to Ezra? He couldn’t remember; which was probably a good thing, as he had a sneaking suspicion that the answer was “yes”.

It was different, now. He would say “I see” not to cause pain, but to express that he understood. The same way that anyone else would use the phrase.

Did Ezra have a problem with that? And if so, was it because of the phrase itself, that reminder of what people considered “normal” and which would soon not be for him, or because Kanan, who _couldn’t_ see, was using it?

Kanan had eventually come to a type of epiphany. He had realized that he could either spend the rest of his life avoiding common expressions, making people feel guilty whether he intended to or not – no point in lying to himself, there were times when “making someone feel guilty” was the desired outcome; _or_ , he could accept that it was part of the language he spoke, and move on with the rest of his life.

(If he thought about it, there was a third option, of finding a language which didn’t use visual metaphors as part of its vocabulary, and communicating in that exclusively, but he didn’t consider it feasible. Besides, a language was only as good as what you could do with it, and no awkwardness was worth cutting himself off from Hera and the others.)

It had been a hard lesson to learn, but an important one. A private one, too. He had never shared that with anyone... but it looked like he had to. And if the only alternative was watching Ezra suffer needlessly, well then it wasn’t much of an alternative at all.

He probably had to get back soon. There were a lot of things he needed to eventually talk about with Ezra, and putting them off wasn’t going to make it any easier.


End file.
